


Mutual Destruction

by askani



Category: Marvel, Marvel 616
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-18
Updated: 2011-05-18
Packaged: 2017-10-19 12:52:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/askani/pseuds/askani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony visits his old flame after Deadpool springs him from custody.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mutual Destruction

**Author's Note:**

> Taskmaster and associated characters don't belong to me, obviously.
> 
> Written for the Cable and Deadpool kink meme. The prompt: "I want some Taskmaster/Sandi. Umm...maybe after Deadpool springs Tasky, he goes off to look for her? idk. I just want Taskmaster/Sandi."

Sandi Brandenberg is accustomed to strays showing up on her doorstep at all hours of the night; that's how she'd gotten just about every pet she'd ever owned in her life. But she isn't used to the strays actually knocking at her door, and she's definitely not used to opening that door to find over six feet of mercenary standing on her welcome mat – at least not anymore, not since she'd decided to leave that part of her life behind for good.

But here's her past staring her in the face. _Tony_. And damned if her heart doesn't still skip a beat or five just to see him again.

He doesn't say a word. He doesn't have to, he never has to, and that's part of the problem. Part of _her_ problem. Sandi's always had a thing for bad boys, wounded men who need someone to help them, to _fix_ them, because then they'll realize that they love her and never, ever leave her. Not like the loser she'd called daddy had left her and her mama when Sandi'd been just a little girl.

Tony's one of the wounded birds she's collected for her menagerie, but he's an ex-boyfriend for a reason, and not because he had smacked her around. No, she could deal with that; Sandi is used to that. It's almost expected. But Tony's never physically hurt her, and she can't imagine him ever laying a hand on her in anger. It's the other pain that stings worse, the emotional wounds that don't heal, and he's damned good at inflicting those without even trying.

Sandi realizes that she's just staring at him like an idiot, and he's staring back at her with the same mute desperation that she knows so well. "Last I heard, you were in prison," she drawls, her accent rising to the surface like it always does when she's upset.

"I had a little help getting out." His glowing eyes narrow a little behind the mask. Maybe he's smiling. Maybe he's wincing. She can't tell. She can never tell.

Sandi steps aside, a silent invitation to come into her apartment. Tony hesitates only for a minute before crossing the threshold, and Sandi takes a deep breath as she locks the two deadbolts and fastens the chain. The locks are reminders of her past life, the life that she had once shared with Tony, the life that had been dangerous and she'd sworn she was glad to leave behind, but god she misses it right now. Misses _him_ , and he's only standing a few feet away from her. But that's the things with mercs, she's learned. They always, always leave you behind, even when they don't mean to do it. There's always another job halfway across the world, another life that you just can't share, another bloodstain in the costume that can't be explained away, another lowlife who might put a bullet between those glowing eyes and shut them forever.

It's the last that had always worried her the most, and that was what had sounded the death knell for their relationship. It wasn't the weird hours, or the weeks when she wouldn't hear from him, or even his stints in prison. Hell, half of the men she'd dated had spent some time in the joint. It had been the sleepless hours at night, when she'd toss and turn and wonder and pray, and then the times he'd come home, but he'd never come back to her. Everything was always kept inside, hidden behind that damned mask, until she'd finally realized that she was fretting her life away for a complete stranger.

 _Just let me in_ , she'd begged, and he'd always say that he didn't know _how_. Even photographic reflexes didn't teach you how to trust, how to admit weakness, how to share.

"You're looking good, Sandi." Tony's voice sounds hoarse, and it still sends a shiver down her spine. He's always been able to do that to her, ever since she'd met him in Vegas. "How have you been?"

"I've been managing," she replies, her voice deliberately light and breezy. "Doing a little modeling, actually. Just a couple of local commercials." And her hand rests on her ribcage as she speaks, her fingers probing the indentation left by a bullet years ago, a very physical reminder of what happens when you get too close to men like Tony.

His eyes don't miss her movement; they never do.

"Sandi…"

It's the little hitch in his voice that does her in, the tic that betrays that he misses her just like she misses him, that he needs her though neither of them wants to admit it. And even though he can't let her in, can't remove the mask and lay himself bare, she's managed to worm her way into his heart anyway. It's not enough, not for either of them, and yet it's what keeps pulling them back together like this, like two planets hurtling towards a black hole, unable to stop their own destruction.

And then he's crossing the living room, and she's wrapping her arms around his neck, and his fingers curl in her hair, and god he feels so good, so real, and it's almost possible to imagine that this time things will be different, that this time things will work.

\----------

The sound of rain splashing against the windowsill wakes Sandi up, and she's a bit disoriented at first because she's not alone in bed. But then she eyes the pile of clothing on the floor, and her fingers trace the ridge of Tony's masked nose in the darkness, and she remembers. She's not surprised they'd ended up here; she'd known that they would ever since she'd opened the door and seen him standing there in the darkness.

He stirs in his sleep, ever vigilant even in his dreams, and Sandi curls against his broad back, content to listen to him drawing in breath, to feel his muscles rippling against her cheek, to pretend that she's not going to have her heart broken yet again by this man.

He never means to hurt her, and her mama always said that it's the thought that counts…

Sandi just wishes that that was enough.


End file.
